


the babysitter's club

by seijuro



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Child Akashi - Freeform, M/M, Modern AU, Platonic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijuro/pseuds/seijuro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was half-convinced Shiori had gotten Seijuurou to babysit Shuuzou and not the other way around.</p><p>(Or: In which “responsible adult” Nijimura Shuuzou is tasked with taking care of a six-year old. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	the babysitter's club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Infiniteskye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infiniteskye/gifts).



> prompted by skye!! i put off posting this for no good reason (aside from the fact that i... lost count... of my own subs), but i'd like to remind you all that niji is our neighbourhood friendly bum (what a dork who doesn't love niji)
> 
> tumblr: seijuurouakashi  
> twitter: akanijis

It was a known fact that Nijimura Shuuzou didn’t like kids, and it was equally known that they didn’t like him. The last time he’d encountered a kid was during his sister’s wedding, and his soon-to-be brother-in-law’s family had brought along a near herd of them. One of the little kids sitting in the aisle had begun crying and ripping at the edges of their fancy tuxedo, and Shuuzou, against all better judgment, had said,

“Are you alright? Do you want me to take you out of the aisle?” He was only doing his job as a “responsible adult” (anyone who actually  _knew_  Shuuzou could agree that he was neither of those things), and a kid sitting smack dab in the middle of the aisle was only begging to be trampled.

The kid had looked up at him, and stopped crying or  _ripping_  (it was a waste, Shuuzou thought, a goddamn  _waste_ ) to stand up. Shuuzou offered the kid his hand. The kid had, of course, kicked Shuuzou right in the shins. He couldn’t have been more than five years old, but Shuuzou swore it felt like someone had rammed seven trucks into his legs. Nonstop.

By that point, his brother-in-law had rushed over and scooped the kid into his arms, apologizing as he did so. Shuuzou knew they weren’t in a farm, but he was smelling a  _lot_ of bullshit.

In hindsight, going to the wedding in the first place was a disgustingly huge mistake. For starters, it was a waste of time. And second off, it gave people the idea that Shuuzou was willing to play babysitter.

That was how he found Shiori at his front door, standing there hand-in-hand with a six-year old boy. He looked well-mannered and a little shy, shrinking further into his mother’s side when Shuuzou said, “Yeah?” He’d only woken up less than an hour ago, and if the way she wrinkled her nose was any indication, he still smelled strongly of cheap mouthwash.

“I was wondering if you could watch Seijuurou for me.” She let go of the little boy’s hand and smiled. “Say hello, Seijuurou.”

“Hello,” Seijuurou echoed.

Shuuzou took a deep breath and a few moments to compose himself. “Why?”

“I’ll be out of town for the next week, you see,” she said. “Masaomi has a business meeting, and I have to go with him.”

Shuuzou eyed Seijuurou suspiciously. “And you’re not taking your kid with you?”

“We can’t. He gets sick on airplanes.”

“That isn’t really my problem.” Shuuzou backed away, ready to close the door. If there was anything he knew about Shiori, it was that she didn’t take no for an answer. He could only hope her son wasn’t the same way.

“Maybe not, but it would still be nice to help the family out, right?”

It was all the fault of his  _goddamn_ sister and her stupid marriage. If she hadn’t run off and gotten married to that guy (Shuuzou had yet to forgive him for the Shin Aisle Incident), then Shiori wouldn’t have become his sister-in-law, and he wouldn’t have ended up with a six-year old at his front door.

“Look, I really—”

“You’re an author, right?” Shiori said. She didn’t give Shuuzou a chance to speak, not when it was something she fully knew the answer to. “That can’t possibly pay much.”

“I’m working on it,” Shuuzou said. It was far too early for him to have to deal with not one, but  _two_  Akashis.

“Can you afford to say no to a job right now? It’s only for a week.” She pushed Seijuurou towards him, putting down the little luggage he brought with him. “I’ll make sure you’re paid nicely for your trouble.”

“You won’t be able to pay me enough for this,” Shuuzou said, but he took Seijuurou inside anyway and braced for what he estimated to be the longest week of his life.

He wasn’t wrong.

*

Seijuurou wasn’t a bad kid. Shuuzou parked him in front of the TV, gave him a colouring book (God knew where he’d gotten that or how long he’d had it), and asked him if he wanted a snack. Seijuurou had shaken his head politely like all rich kids did, taken the crayons Shuuzou offered him, switched the TV channel to Discovery, and stayed quiet. Aside from the quiet hum of the Discovery channel in the background and the even softer sound of Seijuurou colouring, his house was comfortably quiet.

Shuuzou spun around in his office chair, staring at the empty screen. His manager had been sweet enough to extend Shuuzou’s deadline to the next week, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to finish it in time even if she extended it into next  _year_. He’d been counting Seijuurou being a noisy and troublesome child, but was pleased to see he was mistaken. The apartment was almost exactly how it was when Seijuurou  _hadn’t_  been there. Taking a break to whip out his phone, Shuuzou shot Shiori a text.

_Does he have any allergies? I have no idea what to feed him._

Both the fridge and the nearby cupboard only yielded assorted fruits, pasta, and bread. Shuuzou was comfortable living off of Lunchables, but that wasn’t such a good idea for a growing boy. Grabbing his phone again, he sent another text.

_If you say Caviar, I’m feeding your kid McDonalds for the rest of the week._

Shiori did not leave him waiting, and when the phone blinked, her message read:  _He doesn’t have any allergies, but he likes his milk sugared and warm._

*

Seijuurou was content with colouring and Discovery channel for the entire day, and Shuuzou couldn’t help but note he was  _too_  sweet and quiet to be an Akashi. He hadn’t corrected Shuuzou nor told him off for his lifestyle choices. That was a really good sign. Shuuzou brought him a sandwich and a glass of milk around noon, to which Seijuurou responded with a tip of his head and a simple, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Shuuzou’s back was beginning to hurt from hours hunched in front of the computer, and all he’d managed to get out was a measly three-hundred words. It was Shiori’s fault, of course. “You’re not bored?”

Seijuurou shook his head, and Shuuzou caught a glimpse of his colouring. It was especially noteworthy for Shuuzou, who  _still_  had problems when it came to not colouring outside the lines. “That’s nice,” Shuuzou said.

Sitting in silence with a six-year old was more awkward than it should have been. “I know.” He reached for another crayon. He ate his sandwich in little mouse-like nibbles, always taking a moment to dab at his mouth.  _Well._

“That’s a really nice crocodile,” Shuuzou said, for lack of anything else.

“It’s an alligator.” Seijuurou said without missing a beat.

“Oh. Right. Same thing.” Shuuzou was about to return to his place at the computer when Seijuurou said,

“It isn’t the same thing.” He ran his small finger along the shape of the alligator (Shuuzou had to mentally stop himself from saying crocodile)’s jaw. “Do you see the difference in the jawline?”

“Yeah,” Shuuzou said. He didn’t.

“You don’t have to lie. There are other differences.” Picking up the picture, he offered it to Shuuzou. “Their habitats are different. See how the alligator lives in a freshwater area?”

Shuuzou, still trying to wrap his head around how Seijuurou knew and could explain this stuff in the first place, said, “Yeah.”

He went back to and was sitting at his computer table for around another half-hour when he saw Seijuurou in the corner of his mind’s eye. He was standing in front of Shuuzou’s sink, trying to put the sandwich plate in it to no avail. He was on his tip toes, but still couldn’t reach the top. Shuuzou felt a sharp pang of both guilt and amusement.

“Here, I got this.” Walking over to Seijuurou, he took the sandwich plate out of his hands and put it in the sink. “That better?”

Seijuurou walked back to the couch. “Yes.”

*

It was around five-o’clock when Seijuurou walked over to him and just stood by him for a few minutes, watching Shuuzou’s screen. When it came uncomfortable, Shuuzou said, “Do you need something?”

“You’ve been at your computer all day,” Seijuurou said in a matter-of-fact manner. “My mother told me that wasn’t good.”

Shuuzou had half a mind to snap at him considering his father practically sat in front of a computer for a  _living_ , but reminded himself that Seijuurou was six years old. He’d never forgive himself the day he sassed a six-year old child. “It’s my job. And you were sitting in front of the couch all day.”

Seijuurou nodded in mild agreement. “Yes, but I just ate. I haven’t seen you eat anything all day.”

Shuuzou could not believe he was being nagged by a  _child,_ regardless of whether that child was an Akashi or not. “I’m an adult, you see. I don’t have to eat as often.”

Clearly unimpressed, Seijuurou said, “That isn’t true.”

At a lack of what to say and generally offended that he was just told what to do by someone about 1/4th his age, Shuuzou turned away from him. “Yes, it is.”

When he looked at Seijuurou, he was standing in the kitchen in front of an open fridge. “Do you have enough to make another sandwich for yourself? I could do it.”

“Holy shit.” Sighing and getting up from his seat for the third time that day, Shuuzou picked Seijuurou up and put him down a considerable distance away from the fridge. “Fine, I’ll eat.”

The smile Seijuurou gave him wasn’t imaged at all.

*

Eight o’clock, and Shuuzou left his computer for good. It was around time for him to get dinner, but he couldn’t eat yet, not when there was a tiny, walking disaster sitting on his couch.

“Bed-time, kiddo.”

Seijuurou looked at him and clicked the TV off, gathering his colouring supplies off the couch.

“I haven’t showered or brushed my teeth yet,” Seijuurou said, putting the crayons into the box. On his way to the luggage by Shuuzou’s bedroom door, he dropped the box off in the cabinets. A six-year old was more responsible than he was. Shuuzou wanted to cry.

“I was getting to that,” Shuuzou said, sighing. “Do you have your towel and bath supplies?”

When Seijuurou looked back at him, he did.  _Well_. He was half-convinced Shiori had gotten Seijuurou to babysit Shuuzou and not the other way around. Taking his stuff off the bed, Shuuzou prepared himself to migrate to the couch. The thought of itty-bitty Seijuurou sleeping in his king-sized bed was hilarious, and he allowed himself to laugh at it for a few minutes before returning to the task at hand.

Seijuurou walked back into the bedroom exactly ten minutes later with damp hair, a light blue towel around his shoulders, and flannel pajamas. “I’m sleeping in your room?”

Shuuzu nodded. “Unless you have a problem with that?”

Shaking his head, Seijuurou crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up to his ears. Shuuzou still didn’t like kids, but,  _well_ …

“Goodnight,” Shuuzou called, stopping by the doorway.

There was silence from Seijuurou before he finally said, “Goodnight.”

*

He was sitting at his computer and  _thinking_ before he realized he was thinking about Seijuurou. Any  _normal_  six-year he knew would have cried upon being dumped at a stranger’s house without their parents, but Seijuurou had remained markedly calm. Then again, Shuuzou thought, Seijuurou wasn’t actually normal. A text from Shiori told him they’d safely arrived at their destination before it asked how Seijuurou was doing.  _Good_ , Shuuzou texted back, and nothing else.

There wasn’t anything else to say, anyway. He was a little surprised at himself for taking it as well as he did as well, but he was getting paid for it. That made things a little more worthwhile.

( _A little_ , Shuuzou thought.)

He was at least right about one thing, though. Seijuurou had looked hilarious in the bed. It was probably a miracle he hadn’t drowned in it yet. He was reminded of how Seijuurou had just sat there in the quiet for a moment. Responsible or not, all kids got lonely, right? Shuuzou thought of the first night he’d spent without his parents and bit back laughter.

(Business men were notorious for being away from home, and it was even more so for successful ones. He thought of how often Seijuurou had spent nights alone without a mother or father.)

Shuuzou dismissed it. It was hardly his business.

There was the sound of a door opening, quiet footsteps, and then when Shuuzou looked down, a hand was tugging at his sleeve.

“Tuck me in bed,” Seijuurou said, rubbing at his eyes. The lack of sleep made him drop the formalities—Shuuzou glanced at the computer and realized it had only been half an hour. Before Shuuzou could even ask: “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Does your mom usually tuck you in? Your dad?”

Seijuurou shook his head. “My nanny.”

Hesitating for a moment, he swore Seijuurou’s eyes brightened when he said, “Well, alright. But not for too long.”

The novel could wait.


End file.
